


Following in the footsteps of the dead

by myaami



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Canon Divergence, First Trial Death, Gen, Resurrection, Spoilers For The Entire Game, The Classic Battle Between Hope and Despair, The New Battle Between Truth and Lies, Third Trial Motive, Trust Issues, Unreliable Narrator, identity crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-19 17:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myaami/pseuds/myaami
Summary: (Major Spoilers for all of V3)She breathes in time to the music, and soon, she takes her final bow.In the end, the vote is unanimous and the Necronomicon burns. Monukuma promised them a new Kaede. What they get, is—The show must go on.A tale of death, resurrection, and the truth (and lies) of the matter, told in three acts and from three perspectives.





	Following in the footsteps of the dead

** _~ Prelude ~_ **

Kaede takes a deep breath, imagining it’s just another recital. There’s a mantra she’d tell herself when she got nervous:

_It’s going to be okay. _

_It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay okay okayokay get it together. Believe in yourself and your ultimate talent._

Belief has always been kind to her. She’s traveled the world from stage to stage, sharing her music because she believed, and now, that belief has brought her to the end of her life.

Rantaro was not the mastermind. Her arrogance drove her to murder, and now she suffers its consequences.

The lights from the stage are blinding and hot, like cameras flashing in rapid succession. They vie for the opportunity to capture her last performance, one she’s being forced to play, dancing on a string to someone else’s tune. Then the lights flash purple, a trick to enhance the show and enrapt her audience, but she can’t figure out why they would pick that color. Don’t they know the first thing about stage work? Purple light doesn’t travel far; it absorbs.

It reminds her of a field of lavender or the wisteria hanging in the courtyard. It reminds her of Shuichi’s hair, if it were just a little bit deeper. Of a sunrise she’ll never see again.

She breathes in time to the music, and soon, she takes her final bow.

** _~ Act I~_ **

The Necronomicon burns at Shuichi’s feet.

“Puhu. Puhuhu, you decided to do it, eh?” Monokuma watches the book burn, then surveys the room. “I see, I see. This reunion will be the biggest, most greatest highlight of the current lineup! You know what they say, the stronger the love, the harder the motive breaks you.”

“Stuff it, tubs,” Miu snaps. “You’ll do it, right? You’ll bring back who we ask?”

“How hurtful, I’m a bear of my word! Besides, I simply couldn’t deny a request like this. You’re not the only ones with a vested interest in the outcome. Now then, who will it be?”

The room erupts into chaos.

“Rantar—”

“Kae—”

“No! We said—”

“—leader of the country!”

“Calm down!”

“—didn’t deserve—”

“—doesn’t know anything—”

“—already a murderer!”

They’ve been over this.

In fact, they’ve spent the last two and a half days in heated discussion—debate, hysteria, screaming, shouting—since Shuichi walked in on Kiyo preparing his seesaw homicide. When Kiyo was caught cutting floorboards, he tried to knock Shuichi out and improvise another murder. Actually, he did knock Shuichi down, but with Kaito and Maki there to help, Kiyo was easily subdued and then quickly surrendered.

In the wake of near-disaster, Shuichi was elected president of the New and United Student Council after he convinced everyone to give Kiyo a second chance. Death begets death in this academy. It’s what Monokuma wants, so Shuichi will deny him.

In the wake of their united-front, serious consideration was given to Angie’s proposal to perform the resurrection. It’s too good to be true. It’s obviously a trap, but their desire to defect and succumb to another deadly motive was extinguished when Kiyo’s plan failed and they were all faced with their own mortality, again, _again_.

And finally, after two and a half days of discussion, everyone has agreed that they had to take a chance and resurrect a student no matter what. The student to be resurrected, however, is still contentious.

Kirumi is the first choice by many, but Kokichi argues that her Kubs Pad might have been embedded with a lie.

“We would be saved by now if it were really true,” he argues. “We’ve been here for over two weeks and no one has rescued us.”

“Maybe they’re just having trouble finding this place.”

“A huge dome like this? Bullshit. Bet it can be seen from space.”

“Besides,” Kokichi speaks over them, “would _you _let the president just wander off wherever she wanted without a guard? If help isn’t here yet, that means we can’t trust that the Kubs Pads tell the entire truth.”

Rantaro is the next choice because of what he knew about the Ultimate Hunt that was chasing them, however, Tsumugi has trouble trusting him for that very reason.

“He might not have been the mastermind,” she says, “but he still withheld information from us. About his talent and about the Hunt.”

“It could change the way we understand our memories, though. It would be invaluable.”

“Knowledge a powerful magic.”

“Yes, let’s bring Rantaro back!”

“I could never trust him,” Tsumugi says, voice shaking in frustration. “Especially since we need to work together.”

They need someone with a natural talent for unification. Ryoma, he sacrificed himself for them. On the other hand, Kaede sacrificed _for _them. She would do whatever it takes to protect everyone, no matter the casualties.

In the end, the vote is unanimous, and Shuichi announces their verdict: “Kaede. You’ll bring back Kaede.”

Monokuma grins his creepy smile. “Your wish is my command! You can expect to have your very own, brand-spanking-new, living and breathing Kaede tomorrow!” Shuichi lights Kaede’s effigy on fire to signify his acceptance of the terms, and Monokuma’s laughter lingers in the room after he vanishes.

“Was this really the right thing to do?” Maki asks. “It still might be another one of Monokuma’s traps.”

“This is our chance to correct one mistake and we have nothing to lose.” Shuichi answers. “If we want to live in peace and escape, none of us will kill again. Kaede knows that too.”

“That’s right!” Kaito pumps his fist in the air. “Now let’s get ready to welcome Kaede back!” Gonta, Angie, Himiko, Miu, and Tenko cheer with him and discuss their homecoming preparations. Kiyo stands near the back of the group, embarrassed and ashamed, but determined to overcome his inner demons nonetheless. Kokichi jokes that Keebo won’t be the only outlier anymore—“a zombie is waaay more interesting than a robot!”—and Tsumugi looks like she’s won the lottery.

They file out of the room, determined to change and start anew, as Kaede’s effigy burns alongside the book.

** _~ Act II ~_ **

She wakes in darkness.

The bed is hard and cold against her back—_is this really a bed?_—and her arms lay paralyzed by her side. Despite opening her eyes as wide as possible and staring straight ahead, there’s nothing.

Nothing, until slowly the sky above her brightens, transitioning from pitch black to a blinding white in a matter of seconds, with no colors in between. She tries to close her eyes to it, but it forces its way into her brain, and _name school family finals likes piano moonlight name friends likes classic birthday vacation **piano**_—

Kaede takes a deep breath, imagining it’s just another recital. There’s a mantra she’d tell herself when she got nervous:

_It’s going to be okay. _

_It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay okay okayokay get it together. Believe in yourself and your ultimate talent._

Belief has always been kind to her. She’s traveled the world from stage to stage, sharing her music because she believed, and now, that belief has brought her into this light.

The sky—a lid, she thinks—changes from that blinding white into something vaguely opaque to reveal the world beyond. Her confinement hisses, depressurizing, and opens, freeing her from the small confines.

Kaede sits up and shakingly tumbles over the edge of her pod. Her backpack on the ground is a welcome sight, and its weight familiar as she adjusts it on her back. It’s _something_, she thinks, just like her pink musical skirt and long white sleeves she rolls up to her elbows. She clings to these small comforts, like how she clings to the side of her pod to help her stand and properly examine her surroundings.

The room is small and white, its only contents are sixteen pods including her own, which bears the number ‘11’. The cover of the pod beside hers is dark and marked with a ‘12’. There’s no response to her light tapping on its lid, but she’s not surprised. Kaede herself was trapped in a pod with a clear lid; no one could possibly lie inside these dark ones.

A metal door stands at one end of the room, and painted across the opposite wall in an uneven hand, are the words ‘irreplaceable life’ in bright pink. Some of the paint had dripped and splattered and dried on the floor beneath. It’s slightly nauseating to look at.

Where is she? How did she get here? The last thing she remembers is… being kidnapped, and… that’s it.

She gently claps her hands to her face. _Time to move, Kaede. Escape and answers lie through that door. Even so… _

“Nothing makes sense,” she whispers, her throat scratchy from disuse.

“Not yet, it doesn’t!” A cheerful voice sings out and Kaede screams but the voice happily continues over her. “Are we ready for a beauuuutiful day?”

Suddenly standing small at the center of the room is a black and white stuffed bear waving a flashlight in its tiny paw. “You’ve been through a lot,” it says, “so let me give you the prelude. You killed someone, Kaede. And then you died. Oh, my. But fortunately,” it places a paw over its chest, “your friends _forgive _you and _love _you oh-so-much that they brought you back from the dead! Hooray!”

_What… _

…

“What friends? Are… there others trapped in here like me?”

The bear tilts its head to the side. “Is that really what you want to ask me? Of all the things I just said?”

“Well… no,” she admits. She had planned to ignore and push aside the horrible words it had spoken so casually and dismiss them as nonsense, but since it called her out, she might as well listen to what it has to say, even if Kaede isn't sure she'll trust it. “What did you mean, ‘brought me back from the dead?’”

“Maybe it’s magic,” it offers. “No? Maybe it’s… the power of make believe?”

“I am a flesh and blood human being and always have been. How can I be brought back from the dead?! If you’re just going to tease me, then I won’t bother with you!”

It chuckles darkly. “I think you’ll find that you’ll soon have more pressing questions than that one. Say, maybe you’ll even figure it out! You’ve proven yourself to be a smart cookie in the past with your plotting and scheming of murders and all.”

Her? A murderer? Kaede only knows how to bring joy to others through her talent.

“I can see you don’t believe me, but you don’t have to take my word for it. Let’s get you all caught up!” The bear slaps a blindfold over her eyes, and leads her at a run out of the room then down a spiral staircase, her backpack slapping against her back and hair bouncing around her face spiraling down, and down the stairs.

Kaede stumbles blindly against a wall when the bear stops dragging her. Her blindfold is removed and the next thing she sees is a light, and _name school **murder** family finals **shot** **put** likes **Rantaro** moonlight **library vent death death** **death** _and she remembers just how capable she is.

Monokuma was right. Kaede is a murderer. He was right all along. Kaede is dead, and now very much alive.

He isn’t finished with her yet. Madness upon madness, he grabs her wrists and swings her around and around and out the open door in front of her, shouting, “Bon voyage, killer!” and with an inelegance she wishes she possessed when she was plotting Rantaro’s murder, she falls unceremoniously to the floor and the door slams shut behind her—

—and then there is silence.

Like the silence in the moment after she finishes playing, while the audience is still giving her their full and undivided attention before bursting into applause. Like the silence in the moment between when she hung from a stage and saw purple light before her death, to the moment of waking up in her own coffin.

The ground absorbs her tears and her shoulders hurt from shaking. The passage of time is immeasurable to the dead, but now that she has returned, she eventually gets to her feet to take part in the flow of the universe once more.

The gym is off to her right, around the corner from where she was tossed. In the other direction, is a new hallway and room. A peek inside suggests it’s Himiko’s Ultimate Magician’s Lab. It must have opened after she died. After _Kaede _died, that is.

Why? Why did Shuichi want to bring her back? After she betrayed him and mislead him in the investigation? After she killed another human being for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? It’d be better if she went straight to her room without running into anyone. That’d be for the best. Killers don’t deserve second chances, no matter their circumstances.

Take it back. Give this life to Rantaro.

Before she knows it, her feet bring her outside of the dark and dusty school to where her hair absorbs the rays from the rising sun, a blue-ish purple-red sunrise she never thought she’d see again. It warms her head and her skin through her sweater, and sends goosebumps along her exposed arms. She places her fingers on her neck to find a pulse and feel that yes, _yes_, she is alive.

Kaede sprawls out in the grass on her back and holds her sleeveless left arm across her face, laughing and filling her lungs with fresh air and new life. She rolls onto her stomach and kicks her legs up in the air, ghosting her fingers over an invisible grassy piano, celebrating the music of this second chance she was given.

A second chance she was given by, among many others, the person walking down the garden path right now.

“Shuichi!”

Kaede jumps to her feet and skips over to join him under the hanging wisteria. His eyes are wide and his mouth slightly agape when she approaches, but that doesn’t stop her; Kaede wraps her arms around him, clinging to Shuichi because he is _here_ and improbably, so is she.

The warmth of humanity and love grows within her, and the gentle hands he places on her back are a comfort that death simply cannot offer. His hands move to her shoulders and he separates himself from her to get a better look.

_No, that’s not it. Something is wrong_, she thinks.

“What’s wrong? Did I keep you waiting too long?” Kaede tries to step closer again, and again he holds her back.

“You?”

“Yes me, silly,” she smiles warmly at him. “Monokuma told me…that you wanted to bring me back. He gave me my memories from before I died. I don’t know how, but…” she brushes Shuichi’s bangs to the side, happy to see a face no longer hidden under a hat. “It’s a miracle.”

“I asked for Kaede to come back.”

“And I answered your call!”

“Are you our next motive?”

“Huh?”

Shuichi untangles himself from Kaede’s arms, and heads towards the dorms.

“Hey wait… Shuichi, where are you going?”

“I’m going to get the others,” he says, simply, without much emotion.

Kaede brushes the ink on her right sleeve, a nervous but comforting gesture, and imagines hearing the music printed there.

It’s just unexpected, she tells herself as she watches him leave. He’s just surprised. He’s going to get the others to tell them the good news. Shuichi probably still blames himself for Kaede’s actions and Rantaro’s death in the first place. He’ll come around.

He’ll definitely come around, like all things do. Around like the sun rises to shine above their prison cage. Around like the D.C. al Coda of a song. Around like the rope that hung and swung her body back and forth.

It’s going to be okay. Actually, it already _is _okay. Kaede remembers dying and now she’s here. Shuichi probably hadn’t prepared himself for the possibility it would work. He was watching her, at her end. Kaede looked for him in the audience and saw him watching in horror and grief. How could anyone come back from that?

Her fingers continue to itch around the score etched on her arm, and she decides to let the music escape in her Ultimate Lab.

Instead of finding solace in her haven, she finds Kokichi sitting on the piano bench, flipping through sheets of music while taping his pinky on random keys to his own languid tune. His head snaps up when Kaede steps into the room, his finger pressing down and holding a long, haunting note. He releases the key and hops off the bench to stand in front of her.

Kokichi has always been a trickster. He likes to play, but he understands where the boundaries are drawn.

Kaede sends him a crooked grin. “Were you planning to serenade me as a surprise, Kokichi? You need some work.”

“Fortunately I wasn’t trying very hard!” His smile is tight. “If only I had the guidance and mentorship of the Ultimate Pianist…”

“Well, I’m happy to help out, but only if you ask nicely.”

His smile turns to a sneer. “And why would I want help from you, imposter?” He runs past her and into the hallway.

_No way._

“Please wait!” Kaede cries out, and to his credit, or his curiosity, he stops. “Monokuma told me you wanted me back, so why are you rejecting me?”

“Ohhh, so you think you’re Kaede if you wear her clothes and hang out in her room, do you?”

“I _know _I’m Kaede, can’t you see that?” Her hair bounces and curls around her face in frustration and she picks at her sweater and skirt in emphasis.

“Yeah yeah,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “But that’s where the similarities end.”

“I thought you of all people would be truthful with me. In your own way, you’re always looking for the truth, Kokichi. So please, tell me why you think I’m a lie.”

He stares at her, and Kaede doesn’t back down.

“Actually, I don’t know the truth,” he finally admits with a sigh. “Surprising, I know! That being said, I’ll give you a hint. A hint that will level the playing field.” He turns his back to her, and salutes with two fingers. “Find a mirror.”

Kokichi disappears in one direction as Kaede runs off in the other. In the girl’s bathroom on the first floor, she expects to find answers, the truth, but there’s no big revelation waiting for her here. Her dark hair coils and brushes the top of her shoulders as it always does. The beginning of the piano score for _Clair de Lune _is tattooed in a tight sleeve around her right arm, a dark contrast against her white rolled up fabric sleeve. Her left arm is bare; she had planned to tattoo more after graduation.

Kaede is herself, as she always has been. Sure, she may look a bit gaunt from having died, but who wouldn’t. It’s certainly no cause for alarm. Kokichi is teasing her, implying that she’s a stranger because she looks like hell. Yes, that’s it.

_Probably._

Kaede races from the bathroom where her reflection mocks her for not being what the others want to see, and not seeing properly herself, she runs face first into something solid. While flailing her arms to keep her balance, her fingers wrap around a metal wrist and she heaves herself back to her feet and pushes the body against the wall.

“Keebo! Keebo. Please, aren’t you h-happy to see me again?”

“Umm…” He holds his hands in the air as if in surrender. “I’m not sure who you are, but why are you wearing Kaede’s clothes?”

Kaede stomps her foot and shoves away from him. “What is everyone’s problem! You wanted to bring me back so here I am! I am me! I killed Rantaro with a shot put ball and I was executed on a piano!” She paces back and forth, but when Keebo tries to escape, she whirls on him. “Shuichi wasn’t happy to see me, and Kokichi said to look in a mirror, but everything is fine!”

“... Are you really Kaede?”

“Who else could I possibly be!”

They say that the eyes are windows to the human soul. Keebo’s eyes are cameras, replaying and reliving his experiences with detached interest, but behind them, surely he can recognize that the person standing before him is the one he and the others stood beside not too long ago.

“Please hold on a moment.” Keebo’s mouth forms into a slit, and a thin piece of paper shoots out. Kaede snatches it before he can explain its significance but it’s obvious. It’s a photograph. Fifteen students in the dining hall. A candid shot from Keebo’s point of view. She searches for herself, but her eyes are drawn to someone else. Someone with long, straight, blond hair instead of short, curly and dark. Someone without ink wrapped around her right arm, but wearing the same pink sweater and tan backpack as she is right now.

“That’s not me.” Kaede can barely breathe. “I remember when this was taken. It was our first breakfast together. I remember. I sat next to Shuichi and laughed at Kaito’s joke. But _that,” _she stabs the picture, _“Is. Not. Me._”

In times of crisis, the body selectively shuts down functionality in order to preserve others. Kaede knows that the high-pitched whine permeating her head isn’t actually a sound in the wild; it is the absence of sound, the vibrations in the air not properly being interpreted by her ears. She can’t be sure if the vibrations are voices she can feel through her feet, or if it’s her legs shaking beneath her, about to give out.

The vibration increases, and Kaede's hearing snaps back into focus. Several voices approach from down the hall and around the corner. Kaede turns towards the source as Keebo slides away from her. She clutches the picture in one hand and balls her other into a fist. She’ll face them. She’ll figure out why they are denying her existence after they fought hard to bring her back.

They turn the corner and Kaede—

—she runs away.

She runs through the familiar halls that taunt her very existence. Through the tall grass outside, as if she had the chance to run from her execution before the collar clamped around her neck. Nowhere is safe. Nowhere, except the dorms, where a vital clue still rests. A clue that will confirm her existence with her own two eyes.

And it does confirm something, in a way. The portrait next to her name tells the same lie as Keebo’s photograph.

What does it mean to be human, anyway? Are her eyes, ears, and voice not enough? Does the fact that she can somehow breathe after she lost the ability to do so put her at a disadvantage? Because she looks a certain way, does that make her unworthy of a slice of humanity? No one seems to care about her mind or her memories. They only see the rest of her. And for some reason, that’s not good enough anymore. Not anymore. She should just—

“Hey, over here.”

Kaede looks up from where she had sunk to her knees and blindly follows the voice, stumbling into Tsumugi’s room. The door clicks shut, and Kaede stares at the ground. It’s the only thing safe to look at. She doesn’t want to see her tattooed arm, or her pink clothes, or Tsumugi’s accusatory stare. Learning the Ultimate Answer to the Ultimate Question will break her.

_Who am I_

“Oh, thank goodness you’re back, Kaede!”

…

“Kaede? Are you okay?”

…

_Who?_

“You… you know me?”

Kaede is wrapped up in a hug. “Of course I do, Kaede.” Tsumugi’s grip tightens and Kaede clings to her like a lifeline. “You died though, Kaede. We were all there. I can’t believe you’re actually alive again.”

“Tsumugi, what is g-going on? I only ever wanted to protect everyone. T-that’s why I did it. That’s why I k-k-killed Rant-taro. Why are th-they turning on me!? I thought they understood, at the end they said they understood! Won’t they for-give me? Why won’t they acknowledge m-me?!”

Tsumugi rubs her back in circles and Kaede screams into Tsumugi's arms until her throat is raw and tired.

When Kaede's breathing becomes more regular, Tsumugi lowers her voice. “You wouldn’t remember this, Kaede, but after we were given the Necronomicon, Monokuma told us it was the next motive in the killing game.”

“He told me you all wanted me back,” Kaede rasps. “I-I can never make up for Rantaro, but we can live in peace together, now. This is all his fault. All M-monokuma’s fault.”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” Tsumugi says calmly, and runs her fingers through Kaede’s curls. “You see, Monokuma doesn’t have the power to interfere in this game, he can only obey. The rulebook says so. He brought you back because he was asked by Shuichi and the rest of them. But there’s a problem, isn’t there. Tell me what it is.”

“They don’t recognize me. Shuichi and Kokichi denied m-me. Keebo has a picture of a blond girl and my door sign is wrong. It’s all w-wrong.”

“That’s right.” Tsumugi puts her lips to Kaede’s ear, and Kaede drinks in the words. “And if there’s a problem, and if Monokuma can’t interfere, what could have happened?”

The pieces start to line up.

“No matter what, Kaede, I believe you’ll find a way forward.”

There’s only one explanation. A single thread that her mind desperately grasps and pulls and pulls to unravel the tapestry of the academy that would reveal the one standing in shadow, orchestrating this façade.

The mastermind.

It chills her. It burns her thinking about what the mastermind must have done to her. What they could have done to the rest of them.

_But…_

Does it even matter anymore? So much is wrong wrong _wrong_— is Kaede capable of solving this on her own? And once she learns the truth… what then? Will she and the remaining students be able to live together in peace?

_Yes_, her heart tells her.

_No_, her mind counters.

_Maybe_, her gut says.

She takes a deep breath. She knows what she must do.

** _~ Act III ~_ **

Kaede leaves Tsumugi’s room, while Tsumugi herself sneaks off to her secret room in the library to observe from a god’s-eye view.

Motherkuma likes watching too. “Oooh, someone’s been recast! Like a little babykuma born from my womb to replace a dead one. But not nearly as cute, no way, and not nearly as identical. What do they call people like her again?” it wonders. “Umm… oh! An extra?”

Tsumugi giggles and sits on the plush sofa. “No, no, that’s far too degrading to the actor. Kaede is Kaede in every sense. This actor has the same memories, mannerisms, and motivations as the original. Both were trained by my flashlights in the same way. No, the word you’re looking for is, _understudy_.”

She reclines on her throne and watches the views the Nanokumas collectively project to her. On one monitor, Shuichi is gathering followers in the gymnasium. They circle around him, elevating him to the leadership status he never wanted but now it’s his. The role has been filled.

Tsumugi holds out her hands and frames Shuichi between her thumbs and index fingers.

“What will happen next, I wonder? Will the one who swore off killing, kill to keep the peace?”

She shifts her fingers to frame Kaede on another monitor, who marches forward towards an uncertain and unscripted but undeniably delectable future.

“Or will the one who killed before, be moved to do so again?” She throws her hands into the air and fidgets as a wave of excitement crashes over her. “Puhuhuhu, who knows, I’m at the edge of my seat! The cast assembles, the motive in place! Following in the footsteps of the dead, the understudy finally takes the stage and the curtain rises once more!”

Tsumugi’s chest is on fire, heaving if only to expel her joy onto the ground and into the air. So many possibilities unfold in her mind’s eye: Kaede wandering the school by herself. Searching for a way out, following the Death Road of Despair, yet without the power of friendship, what chance does she have? A broken girl, alone and unable to trust her mind or her reflection. This Kaede isn’t capable of much, not if she’s anything like the last one, whose plan to kill Rantaro actually failed. They were cast to play the same role, afterall.

Or maybe Kaede will overcome these odds and raise an army of her own! Convince the others that the true essence of a human—or of any sentient being, really—isn’t the makeup of their skin or body, or if they’re just ones and zeros; it’s their soul and memories that transgress even death.

Oh, oh! Imagine: Shuichi reaches critical mass first, convincing everyone that no, this is _not _Kaede. It’s a fake that can never truly be one of them because she wasn’t _there_. He’ll commit murder with his own hands. The tragedy of altruism damning his soul so as to save everyone else.

So rich, so beautiful! So many plausible alternate plots make this the most watched show in primetime drama! but she can’t interfere too much herself. Tsumugi is just a supporting actor—maybe _she’s _the extra—yet there are times when even extras have important lines to say. Some side comment that means little to them, but it motivates and pushes the protagonist in unimaginable ways, down inexplicable paths.

Tsumugi delights in watching Kaede strive towards her unknown destiny.

“Show us what you’re capable of Kaede_. _How will you live up to your predecessor, when the hope she instilled in everyone is now the catalyst for your despair?”

The script moves within her, a living, breathing entity shaped by her and given as a gift to her audience, who is completely enthralled by this new development and the shifting allegiances of the cast.

“Show us how you will crush their newfound hope with your own two hands! Hands that are different from the ones that tried to kill Rantaro!”

Building and burning and writing itself into an infinite number of possibilities, the script evolves into something that cannot be controlled, cannot be written or orchestrated by one person anymore.

“Show us how your truth becomes their lies, and watch how they lie to uphold their truth!”

It’s far, far out of her hands now; Tsumugi couldn’t possibly hold it all by herself even if she tried! It’s up to the rest of them to fight for the right to hold the pen and plot out their own version of the truth, scribbling over each other’s hopes and desires until the page becomes indecipherable, and their only option left is to watch how it all plays out.

“Don’t! Change! The channel!!”

The script laughs and cries and lies, and the show goes on.

** _Fin_ **

** **

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! <3 I hope you found this interpretation interesting!


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